How Bali opened my heart to a new kind of love
Chapter 18: What happens when your paths cross halfway around the world
Welcome to Chapter 18 of Love at First Flight, my memoir about what I learned on my solo round-the-world trip.
Join me in Bali, where my peaceful bubble of solitude is about to take an unexpected turn.
Yoga teachers in Bali like to talk about emotions. It’s a moving energy, they say. ‘E-motion is energy in motion.’ And they’re particularly fond of talking about love. But after weeks of solitude in Ubud, love was no longer my priority. I'd grown used to my own company and I liked it that way.
When I first planned this solo round-the-world trip, I'd feared loneliness. Instead, I found a peaceful life that felt entirely mine.
Each morning, I’d tuck into fresh eggs and strong Balinese coffee on my terrace, watching ducks peck at insects in the green rice fields. I’d spend hours writing in cosy cafés, lost in my own world. Some days I explored - waterfalls, markets, local art galleries.
Then something strange began to happen.
When paths recross
One afternoon, I got chatting with the guy sitting next to me in a café, only to discover he’d spent the last month living in the same island bay as me in Thailand.
At an evening ecstatic dance class at YogaBarn, I saw more faces I recognised from The Sanctuary, the yoga resort I loved on Koh Phangan.
I even bumped into Panda, my teacher from Goa. He was in Bali to lead a workshop and we caught up over a Bintang beer.
It was as if Ubud was the next logical waypoint on some cosmic traveller's map.
The universe seemed to be nudging me gently out of my self-care cocoon. And it was right on time, because my friends were about to arrive.
"It must be fate," Sarah laughed as we reunited and hugged in the middle of an Ubud café. "First Goa, now Bali? This can’t be a coincidence."
Sarah, a friend from London, was on her own round-the-world adventure. Like me, she’d booked her flights in advance and we realised our journeys would overlap in both India and Bali.
Joining us in Ubud for the weekend was Jenny, who I’d met in Thailand a few weeks earlier. She was popping over for a short break from her home in Singapore.
Over dinner, the three of us quickly agreed we wanted to have some fun. So we decided to take a boat to the nearby island of Gili Trawangan for some beach action.
Old stories and new adventures
As we sped across the waves, I told Jenny the story of why my ex and I had split up. I'd repeated this tale of heartache so many times, it had become part of my identity. But this time, something changed.
Part of me started observing, listening to my own words. Jenny listened politely as I blindly recited this script I'd internalised years ago.
Quickly, I wrapped it up. This was the distant past and I was evolving into someone new. I didn’t need these old stories any more; I had plenty of new ones.
Changing the topic of conversation to something lighter, a heaviness left my body, as if I'd set down a bag I'd been carrying for far too long. Shortly afterwards, we stepped off the boat and onto the island.
On Gili T, we had a lot of fun. I loved hanging out with these girls. We went for dinners, saw live bands at a reggae bar, went scuba diving and sipped cocktails by the beach. I was relieved to continue my relaxed lifestyle here: this island redefines the concept of laid-back. The sea breeze carried the scent of grilled seafood as we watched the boats carry people to and from the island.
All too soon, it was time for Jenny to head back to Singapore, so we all returned to Bali. The island-hopping adventures with my friends had been exactly what I needed – fun, carefree and full of laughter.
Back in Ubud, Sarah and I settled into a comfortable routine together. It was different from my solo rituals yet still natural. We'd eat breakfast on our adjoining balconies, then spend the day exploring together or part ways to do our own thing, before meeting again for yoga or dinner.
It was during one of these easy evenings together that Sarah suggested we do something different.
Wonder at sunrise
My alarm woke me with a jolt. The glow of my phone cut through the darkness - it was 2am.
Slowly, I pulled on my khaki combat trousers and fleece. Outside, a driver waited to take Sarah and me to Mount Batur - Bali’s second-highest active volcano and one of its most sacred places. We were going to climb it before sunrise.
At the base, guides stood ready, flashlights in hand. Only their narrow beams and the stars lit the way. We began ascending the shadowy grey slopes. My breath rose in white wisps in the cool air. My heart pounding, my worn-out trainers slipped on the loose rocks. But soon, Sarah and I found a rhythm. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we walked in silence.
At the top, the guides handed us steaming coffee and soft, buttery brioche. We watched the morning mist drift past jagged rocks and over the dark lakes below us.
Gently, the horizon began to glow. As we ate, the sun rose, casting shades of gold across the sky. I caught Sarah's eye and we exchanged a smile, this shared moment magnifying the beauty that surrounded us.
In the quiet, my breathing slowed and deepened, as the mountain lent me its stillness. Perched on this crest between the earth and the heavens, I breathed in the clean, energising air. Each inhale stretched my chest wider, filling me with a strange, peaceful clarity.
The sky steadily brightened into a light turquoise, as the sunlight swept across the shrubs and grasses around us, and over the green rice terraces stretching towards the sea. Taking in this beauty, I forgot my aching legs and the early wake-up call. Catching Sarah's smile beside me made it even more special.
Before heading down, the guides led us to the edge of one of Mount Batur’s vast calderas for a final, breathtaking moment. What a way to start the day.
The truth about friendship
Sarah and I spent all our days together in Bali. We visited other parts of the island and went to yoga classes.
"Inhale deeply... and as you exhale, feel your heart centre opening," said the yoga teacher softly as he guided us through the practice one day. "Now breathe in fully once more... and release with a sigh."
We moved in sync with the poses as the morning light dappled through the wooden yoga shala, casting soft patterns across our mats.
"You know what's interesting about love?" he said, moving between the mats.
Not love again. I rolled my eyes. He continued:
"Friendship is the truest kind. There's no complicated desire, no family obligation. Just two people choosing to spend the journey together. Pretty amazing when you think about it. That’s real love, right there."
I thought of Sarah and how deeply she cared for the people around her. As we continued the heart-led yoga flow, a warmth radiated inside me. I was so happy to be spending time in this special place with someone so loving. Truly one of life's wonderful people. By the end of the class, I was surprised to realise I was holding back tears.
As we all sat up and acknowledged each other after the final relaxation pose, Sarah and I shared a smile. Sunlight filtered through the green leaves of the trees and plants surrounding the shala. My hands rested in prayer position in front of my chest, I bowed my head and closed my eyes.
In this moment, I understood the heart doesn't necessarily distinguish between romantic love and friendship - it simply opens or closes. Maybe by letting go of my old love stories on the boat to Gili T, I had now opened my heart to all kinds of new ones.
The pain of parting
Too soon, it was Sarah's last day. But I didn't want to think about it. We began with our usual breakfast and chat on our adjoining balconies in Ubud, overlooking the ducks waddling busily in the fields.
Whenever I remembered she was catching her flight in a few hours, my chest tightened. We'd bonded so much. I would miss her laughter and our easy conversations that could stretch for hours.
Sarah was also in tears. After our incredible weeks in Bali together, she was uncertain about moving on to her next destination alone. But, like me, she had the rest of her dream trip ahead of her. The adventure of a lifetime.
As Sarah's taxi pulled away, my heart sank. I stood in the road long after the car had disappeared.
Resisting the inevitable
As always, the universe was there to lend a helping hand. If I was ready to say ‘yes’.
The next day, I bumped into a guy near the guesthouse, who introduced himself as Rasmus. He had moved into one of the other rooms after arriving from The Sanctuary Thailand yoga resort. To me, that was a stamp of approval, as I’d come to assume that anyone who’d been there would be an interesting and open-minded person.
We chatted on Rasmus’s terrace about our dreams, passions and Full Moon parties. The sky darkened and the stars emerged. Before I headed back to my room, he suggested I knock on his door sometime if I felt like hanging out. While I nodded, this would be another connection that would inevitably end and I couldn’t deal with it.
That night I tossed and turned. I missed Sarah. Not only that, my own departure from this island was just a few days away. I realised why she’d been so upset to leave. Soon, I’d head to Australia, away from the laid-back, simple pleasures of Bali and back to the ‘real world’ of skyscrapers, chain stores and city living. I didn’t want to go. Not yet.
In the morning, I lay in bed watching the ceiling fan slowly rotate, until I was so hungry I felt sick. Hours later, I still hadn’t moved. I wrote in my journal, concluding that my journey here in Bali was done and that it was a good thing. But despite my assertions, I couldn’t get my heart on board with my head. I was miserable to be leaving magical Asia.
Over the next couple of days, I sank into isolation and depression. Barely eating, only sleeping. The same room that had been my sanctuary weeks ago now closed in around me. Something had to give.
One last connection
Waking before sunrise on my final day in Bali, I’d had another bad night’s sleep. But, I made a decision. I was determined to have a good last day.
Despite my melancholy since Sarah's departure, I knocked on Rasmus's door and invited him to join me for lunch. With a smile that said ‘what took you so long’, he happily accepted.
Enjoying one last meal at my favourite café, we had a deep chat and got to know each other in a short space of time. I cursed myself for moping around these last few days, when I could have said ‘yes’ much earlier.
We parted with a warm hug and I returned to the guesthouse to finish packing. My time in Bali was ending, but now I knew that friends would always find me on this trip when I needed them most. For starters, my Australian friends were messaging me excitedly about my imminent arrival.
What remains when we let go
Green rice terraces and swaying palms blurred outside the taxi window. The landscape that had become so familiar now passed by for the last time, tugging at my heart as I said a silent farewell.
At Denpasar airport, I realised I'd been so preoccupied with feeling sad that I'd failed to apply for my Australian visa. Luckily, an official sorted it out for me. From the gate, I watched planes taking off, carrying people who were leaving behind - or about to be reunited with - their loved ones.
This was what Bali had been showing me all along. Love is a moving energy. The heart's greatest strength isn't how tightly it can hold on, but how gracefully it can remain open through life's hellos and goodbyes. It’s OK to miss someone. Or to miss a place.
From my plane seat, I leaned my forehead against the cool glass and watched the island disappear from view. Ready, at last, to say ‘yes’ to whatever Australia had in store.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please tap the ❤️—it helps others discover the story and makes me happy.
Have you ever visited Bali? I know one or two of my readers have been there very recently! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Next week, find out why we make such strong connections with people when we travel - maybe even easier than in our daily life at home.
Thanks for sharing! For me, the volume of the voiceover was very low.
Thanks for sharing this story. It took me right back to my travels across Ubud and Gili T ☺️ I’d love to hear your thoughts on the sanctuary in Koh phangan?